


even if it makes me blue

by gardensong



Category: Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: 616 comicverse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:35:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22297915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardensong/pseuds/gardensong
Summary: Peter looked over as Johnny arrived and gave him a small smile for his troubles. The pool lit up the side of his face and for a moment, Johnny forgot how to breathe.peter and johnny are at the same party.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Johnny Storm
Comments: 16
Kudos: 296





	even if it makes me blue

**Author's Note:**

> i know i know i know i said peterflash2020 but this was in my drafts from the summer and i wanted to be free of it. it is inspired by the works of miss taylor swift and i thought i might as well post it. lmk if u can guess which swift songs  
> no beta cuz we die like men
> 
> also lowkey. Dont know how johnnys powers work  
> enjoy!

Johnny’s night so far had been perfectly fine. The model whose name he couldn’t quite remember’s apartment was a spacious penthouse in the West Village with sleek floors and surfaces that shone different colours in time to the music playing from different angles of the room. The drinks were fun colors (Johnny had grown quite fond of the glittery purple one that tasted like cherries and plums) and the guests were all dressed in silk and velvet. Waiters wore red sequins and gold masks, and every so often they handed out sparklers to lucky guests, and snapped polaroids for each pop star and movie actress to take home.

Johnny had come with a date, but she was long gone by now. She was still at the party, of that Johnny was sure, but she had left him about an hour in, as soon as she realized he wasn’t really interested in socializing with the star of her favorite dystopian film saga. They had parted on good terms, of course. He gave her his blessing to stalk whatever celebrities she wanted and headed to the snack table, where he hoped he could find something to counter whatever was in those delicious purple drinks.

He had one of those drinks in his hand when someone poked his sides and sang, “ _Goooood_ evening, flamebrain!” into his ear.

Johnny jumped, of course, because he hadn’t been expecting an attack, and as soon as he caught on to who this familiar stranger was, he almost jumped again.

“Do you not know how bad of an idea it is to sneak up on a superhero?” he demanded of Peter Parker, newspaper photographer, thorn in his side (tonight, quite literally — the dude had strong fingers).

“And yet here I am, not barbecued,” Peter countered, spreading his hands in demonstration.

Oh, yeah. Johnny frowned. “Why _are_ you here?”

The sleazy grin fell off of Parker’s face. “Excuse me?”

From the crowd behind him emerged a glamorous redhead whomst definitely was a better fit for this sort of scene. Mary Jane Watson, actress and model, linked her arm through Peter’s and greeted Johnny with a perfect glossy red smile.

“Johnny!” she gushed over the music, reaching out to touch his arm. “I’m loving that colour on you, _god_ ! I’ve been _trying_ to get Pete to live a little with his wardrobe choices—” she gestured towards her arm-candy (not that he was, in any shape or form, enjoyable to look at) “—but I think we’ve got some work to do before he goes glitter.”

“MJ, I think a patterned shirt is exciting enough,” Parker bemoaned.

“It would be,” Watson said, undoing the top button of his deep green shirt as he tried to swat her away. “Johnny, tell him!”

“We could swap,” Johnny suggested. His shirt was turquoise and glittery — it was also Gucci, and he would not realistically lend it to Parker in a million years.

“As if _you_ could make this work,” Parker said, still caught up in his play fight with Watson. She kept lunging for his buttons with her manicured nails and he kept swatting her away. When they started slapping each other softly, Johnny realized that he was very much the third wheel in whatever this situation was.

“I’m going to go dance,” he said, to dismiss himself. But to his surprise, Watson immediately dropped her hands and grabbed his forearm.

“I’m coming with you!” she told him. Her earrings were diamonds, and they caught the light just as her blue eyes found his. There were plenty of pretty people at this party — heck, being pretty was a requirement if you were to get within fifty feet of the place — but Mary Jane Watson might just be the prettiest out of all of them. “Pete?” she asked her plus one.

“I’m good, thanks,” Parker said.

“Suit yourself!” was Watson’s breezy reply.

And that was how Johnny found himself in the center of the dance floor, dancing with a girl that was even out of his league. He had questions, like why she had brought Parker along, and how close were they, really, but he couldn’t feel the space to ask them. He felt like he was in a scene from a movie, but the movie was Mary Jane’s, not his. She danced alongside him, a sparkler lighting her face, twirling in what seemed to be slow motion, her brilliant red hair swaying to the sound of whatever it was that was playing. All Johnny could do was watch, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain. 

Then Mary Jane wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into the spotlight with her, and when she laughed, he couldn’t help but laugh, too.

 _How had Parker landed himself a woman like this?_ He wondered, and then he remembered Peter was here, too.

Maybe she was trying to make Peter feel jealous by dancing with him. It was an ugly idea, and it hurt Johnny’s feelings, so he chanced a glance around the room to try and find the newspaper photographer out. Finally, he found him, standing against a wall, a drink in his hand and a smile on his face. Their eyes met and Peter’s dimple deepened. That was when Johnny had to look away, only to find Mary Jane looking down at him (she was wearing heels, alright?) with a grin on her face. It made Johnny feel weird, but brave. He smiled back at her, trying to forget about Peter standing to the side, watching, and kept dancing.

After a while, he lost her. He switched partners a couple of times, drank different colour liquids and took a bathroom break. Then he saw the door to the roof open, then close, Parker’s unmistakable bedhead slipping through it.

Johnny waited two whole songs before excusing himself from the dance floor, and another chorus until he dug up the courage to slip through the heavy door himself. There was a large sticker on it that said OFF-LIMITS, which Johnny ignored as Peter had before him.

The door clicked shut beside him and suddenly Johnny was in the dark of a staircase. The sudden decrease in volume of the party’s music made his ears ring just a little, and the door behind him vibrated with the effort of keeping the music inside.

He resisted the urge to flame on any part of him, because Reed had not gotten his hands on this shirt and Johnny refused to let anything happen to it, no matter how sure he was of his own powers.

There was a faint glow emanating from the top of the staircase, and Johnny followed it, noticing the dropping temperature as he climbed.

The glow, it turned out, was coming from the rooftop pool that shone eerily beneath the New York skyline. There was a pile of deckchairs to Johnny’s right, and frozen plants stood around the rooftop in the winter cold. More noticeably, however, stood Peter Parker, leaning out over the balcony, his breath painting pale clouds across the night sky. He looked handsome, if you were into roguish, old Hollywood types with a broken nose that had been set poorly, and thick eyebrows that needed plucked.

Peter looked over as Johnny arrived and gave him a small smile for his troubles. The pool lit up the side of his face and for a moment, Johnny forgot how to breathe.

He cleared his throat and stepped out onto the deck.

“So, what’s a nerd like you doing in a place like this?”

Parker shrugged.

“Beats me,” he said. Almost as an afterthought, he added, “I hate things like this. MJ says I need to get out more.”

He was swaying slightly, and now that Johnny was closer, he noticed drink in his hand. But despite hating things like this, he looked happy. Buzzed. Johnny himself felt pretty buzzed, too. Buzzed enough to be able to stand time alone with this guy, anyway.

“I guess I’m out!” Peter announced to the New York below them, spreading his arms wide.

Johnny blinked. “Is that a gay joke?”

“No!” Peter laughed. “We’re outside, dumbass. It was an _outside_ joke.”

“Well, it was a bad one.”

Peter looked him up and down, and something twitched in the pit of Johnny’s stomach. It was then that Johnny noticed that Peter was shaking. When Johnny was distracted, or drunk, it was hard to focus on the actual temperature of wherever he was, simply because Johnny was always warm. However, the frozen plants should have been hint enough that a flimsy shirt Mary Jane Watson had picked out wasn’t exactly enough to keep Peter warm.

“I should ask you the same question,” Peter said then, catching Johnny off-guard.

“What question?”

“What’s a doll like you doing in a place like this?” He paused. “You follow me up here?”

Johnny shrugged because he couldn’t bare to admit it aloud. But this was enough of an admission for Parker: the corners of his mouth lifted to reveal a gleaming grin that made Johnny’s face feel warm.

Then, he balanced his empty glass on the railing and began to unbutton his shirt.

“I was joking, before,” Johnny said quickly. “I’m not swapping shirts with you— you’ll stretch it.” Yes, he would... Johnny tried to stop himself from looking at Parker’s bare chest, but he just couldn’t. Jesus Christ. What the hell was Parker doing to stay _this_ in shape? And now that Parker was sans shirt, it was even clearer that he was cold. Johnny swallowed.

“God, you’re so huffy,” Parker complained, puffing his cheeks and blowing, irritated. A lock of hair had fallen out of place and it dangled between his eyes as he bent over to pull off his shoes.

“No,” Johnny said, beginning to put two and two together. “No, you’re not!”

He raised a hand in front of his face when Parker pulled down his jeans. It was for his sake more than Parker’s. He did not want to inevitably like what he saw there.

“You’re not the boss of me, Storm,” Peter said. 

_I wish you were the boss of m_ e. Johnny swallowed that thought and kept a hand over his eyes until he heard a loud splash, droplets of icy water splattering across his bare skin.

“Oh, fuck, it’s cold,” Peter gasped, jumping up to his waist, the once still water now sloshing around him and out onto the deck.

“You idiot,” Johnny laughed, putting his hands on his hips. Peter had left his underwear on, which was good news. Sort of.

“It’s fucking freezing,” Peter said, his teeth chattering. He dropped underwater, the edges of him blurring in the icy outdoor pool. The seconds passed and for the shortest instant, Johnny wondered if he had drowned, or passed out— but then Peter emerged once again, cheeks bloated, and spat a stream of water in Johnny’s direction. It didn’t even make it out of the pool, and Johnny laughed.

“That was pathetic.”

“I’m _sorry_ my spitting isn’t to your satisfaction, mister Storm.”

“Please, don’t ever say that again,” Johnny groaned.

Peter folded his arms on the edge of the pool and looked up at him with his stupid brown doe eyes.

“Why not?” he asked sweetly. His bottom lip was trembling and was tinged slightly purple, but he was taking it like a champ.

“Oh, you know why,” Johnny said, putting his hands on his hips.

Peter blinked innocently up at him. Then he flinched and looked down.

“Fuck, my nipples are rock hard.”

“Also forbidden!” Johnny said, covering his ears with his hands and laughing. “Oh my god!”

“I’m drunk,” Parker admitted.

“Me, too.”

“Yet _I’m_ the only one in the pool,” Peter said woefully.

Johnny set his jaw. “Okay. Fuck it. And fuck you,” he pointed at him as he wrestled his way out of his shirt. “Fuck you, too.”

“Sure,” Peter said easily, and Johnny ignored it. “Oh my god, you’re folding it,” he laughed. Johnny ignored that, too. He laid it gently on one of the frozen deck chairs and then started wriggling out of his pants. “I’m gonna be Leonardo DiCaprio by the time you get in here,” Parker huffed.

“Wow, I have to admit… I’m impressed that you’ve seen a movie.”

“I’ve seen plenty of movies,” Peter scowled.

“Gotten around to anything from this century yet?” Johnny asked, hopping out of his second pant leg.

“I take it back.” Peter pushed away from the edge of the pool and waved his arms around him territorially. “This is my pool and you’re not allowed in it.”

“I’ve taken my socks off,” Johnny shrugged. “There’s no turning back.”

“No cheating!” Peter said as Johnny approached. “Turn your superpowers off!”

“I can’t turn them off, genius,” Johnny snided, doing his best to ignore that he and Parker were each in their underwear, alone. He wasn’t self-conscious about his body, or at least, he wasn’t often, and he pretended he wasn’t affected by how Peter was definitely not ogling him. “Have you not had the powers conversation with your Spider-buddy?”

“You know what I mean,” Peter waved a hand. “Dial it down. _Suffer_. Like a real man.”

“Question a guy’s masculinity, that’s bound to get him on your good side.”

“Who said I wanted to get on your good side?”

Instead of dignifying that with an answer, Johnny broke out into a short run and leapt into the air. For some idiotic reason, he had heeded Peter’s request and ‘dialed down’ his Human Torch attributes, which meant that falling into the water knocked the breath out of him. He felt how he imagined being on fire would feel if he weren’t inflammable, a hundred needles pressing into his skin.

He flapped his arms around until he reached the surface and gasped for air.

“Fuck you, it’s fucking cold, fuck off!” he spluttered as Peter laughed.

“I told you it was cold.”

“My dick is gonna fall off!”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.”

Sure, it had only been a few seconds at most, but Johnny had enough.

“Oh, no fair,” Peter complained as the water warmed up fast. “We’re supposed to suffer.”

“We’re on the roof of a skyscraper in the middle of winter, you masochist!” Johnny said, relishing the feeling returning to his limbs. “I’m not gonna have superpowers and just _not_ use them when I need them the most.”

“To stop your dick from falling off,” Peter grinned. Johnny pointed a finger at him.

“You’re not allowed to talk about my dick.”

For once, Peter said nothing. Instead, he just smiled. It was a sloppy smile, tilted to one side, showing off straight teeth that Johnny inexplicably became fixated on. The blue tint that his skin had acquired was dimming, and colour was returning to his cheeks. Peter had excellent cheekbones.

“You trying to boil me alive here, Torchy?”

“Huh?” Johnny blinked. That was when he noticed the steam rising out of the water and into the dark night, and the pink blotches blossoming on Parker’s chest. “Oh,” he said, quickly turning down the heat. “No. I just forget what regular people can stand.”

Peter tossed his head back and laughed, showing off the curve of his neck and the size of his Adam’s apple. “You did _not_ just call me regular.”

“Are you not the average Joe?” Johnny asked, keeping his (ha) cool.

“You tell me.”

Johnny licked his lips. There was something, some hidden meaning caught behind Peter’s words, but he couldn’t work out what it was. Peter’s brown eyes twinkled, and suddenly Johnny the severity of what Johnny had gotten himself into dawned on him: he was alone on a rooftop with a beautiful boy he couldn’t stand.

And it was snowing.

The snowflakes dissolved before they even reached the water, evaporating into the fog floating on the pool’s surface.

“Oh, wow,” Peter said, lifting his face towards the sky.

This, Johnny realized, was his chance to get the hell out of here. He began to slowly edge himself towards the side of the pool, doing his best not to get distracted by the fact that he’d never seen Parker smile like _this_ : his mouth hanging open in wonder, caught in a bubble of his own. His back hit the edge of the pool and he made a noise of protest. Peter looked down, his eyebrows raised.

“Where are you going?”

Suddenly, Johnny was stuck to the spot.

“I was just, um…” He cleared his throat. A snowflake fell onto Peter’s eyebrow and disappeared. “It’s snowing.”

“I know.”

“People are probably wondering where we are,” Johnny tried again. Peter shrugged and began towards him. Everything in his demeanor seemed casual, but Johnny realized there was nothing casual about any part of this scene.

“They might be wondering where _you_ are, superstar member of the Fantastic Four,” Peter said, swaying from side to side as he approached. “But ole Peter Parker, average Joe photographer...”

“People notice you,” Johnny blurted out.

Peter raised an eyebrow. He looked mildly concerned by this information.

“Oh,” he said then. “I stick out like a sore thumb, is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s _exactly_ what I’m saying.”

Peter stopped his approach. “Not everyone can pull of glitter, alright? Some of us are poor, living paycheck to paycheck. Sorry I don’t have hairstylists and personal shoppers—“

Johnny laughed. He couldn’t help himself. Before Peter got a chance to retort, he shook his head enthusiastically and said, “That is _not_ what I’m saying.”

“Oh? Then what are you saying?”

Fuck it. “You’re cute, Parker,” Johnny said. “People notice that.”

“Oh.” And Johnny’s words were worth it for the look on Peter’s face alone. Then, his shock wore off, and a small crease appeared between his eyebrows. “People like…?”

Instead of answering, Johnny pushed himself off of the side of the pool and kissed him. Peter’s lips were still cold, and Peter’s face was wet, but Peter was kissing him back. He was taller than Johnny, but he crouched in the water and drew him in so their bare chests were flush together, his arms circling Johnny’s waist.

He pulled back, his mouth scorched red and shining, and said, “God, I was hoping you’d do that.”

Johnny’s head was spinning already, and Peter’s words were too much to process. Peter cupped Johnny’s cheek with his hand and pressed their mouths together again.

Peter kissed with a ferocity that made Johnny’s legs weak. He tightened his grip around Peter’s neck so as not to give anything away. Yes, his head was spinning, and Peter’s tongue made him feel fluttery in a way he hadn’t felt since he was sixteen swinging through New York City after Spider-Man, but Peter did not have to know that. 

He bit into Peter’s bottom lip, causing Peter to grunt in a way that made Johnny ache. Instead of sinking down again, Peter lifted Johnny up, making Johnny feel weightless. He wrapped his legs around Peter’s waist and pulled Peter as close to him as he could, as if he were dying of thirst and Peter was the oasis in the middle of the desert.

Peter’s hands cupped Johnny’s ass, and it wasn’t as if Johnny’s soaking briefs were any real cover at all, but Johnny’s breath hitched all the same when Peter pushed them down, his fingernails now digging into Johnny’s bare ass.

“Ow,” Johnny muttered as his back hit the side of the pool, even if it didn’t really hurt and Johnny didn’t really mind. At all.

“Seriously?” Peter asked, and Johnny kissed him again and thrust his hips forward into Peter’s. A small moan slipped past Peter’s lips, and Johnny relished in it. He wanted Peter to moan like that again. And again, and again, and again—

“Oh, there you two are.”

Peter and Johnny froze in place. Superpower or no, Johnny’s blood turned ice cold. Fuck.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut in a grimace, bracing himself for the shitshow that was to come. 

Maybe Peter was braver than him, or maybe Peter wasn’t a celebrity who was technically still in the closet, but he turned to look at the intruder first nevertheless. Johnny only followed suit once he felt his partner in crime relax ever so slightly underneath him. Through the haze of steam rising off the pool and melting snowflakes stood Mary Jane Watson, her red hair glowing like a fiery halo.

“Any room in that tub for me?”

Peter groaned and dropped his head onto Johnny’s shoulder. His hair was wet, and it tickled. “Not now, MJ.”

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” MJ shrugged. “Mazel Tov!” The door closed behind her.

“Mary Jane Watson is Jewish?”

Peter looked up to the heavens.

“Oh, you are,” Johnny said. “I knew that. I mean, I guessed…”

“Stop talking.”

“Okay,” Johnny agreed. His hand was on Peter’s pec. When had it gotten there? And why was Parker huge? Oh, god, Peter Parker’s hand was on his bare ass. Johnny swallowed. “Hey, uh… You wanna get out of here? Somehow, I don’t think Sue would approve of whatever _this_ is could do to our brand.”

Peter’s eyebrow slanted. His hands were still on his ass.

“Sue Storm is homophobic?”

“What? Are you– I’m talking about _sex_ on a stranger’s _rooftop_!” Johnny hissed. He wanted to push Peter away, but he couldn’t.

Peter’s hands finally distanced themselves from Johnny’s buttocks. Johnny wasn’t as thrilled about it as he thought he’d be. Peter placed them under Johnny’s thighs instead, even though Johnny didn’t really need holding up what with them being in a swimming pool, but it felt reassuring. Peter’s hands were huge, and Johnny was just glad they were still on him.

“I know,” Peter said. “I was joking.”

“Well, it was a terrible joke. My sister is the most accepting, loving and supportive person you’ll ever–”

“Okay, you don’t have to keep talking about your sister.”

“I wasn’t going to, until _you_ tried to be funny–”

“I’m very funny.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows. “Who told you that?”

“No one,” Peter said, and he released Johnny’s thighs from his grip. Johnny pretended he didn’t much care, and let Peter float away from him, just a bit. “You don’t just _tell_ people they’re funny. That would be weird.”

“Or maybe nobody has because you’re not.”

Peter sighed tragically. “I’m underappreciated in my time.”

“I think I just proved that I appreciate plenty about you,” Johnny pointed out. He flicked one of Peter’s (rock hard) nipples to reinforce said point. Peter let out a small noise of protest, but from what Johnny could tell, he had liked that quite a bit. “Your sense of humor is not one of those things.”

“Okay, but who _do_ you think is funny?” Peter pressed, and his mouth twisted as if he were about to say something extremely clever. “How about Spider-Man?”

Johnny blinked. He released Peter’s waist from his leg’s grip, his feet dropping against the tiled floor. “What? Has he said something? Have you talked about me?”

“Whoa, no!” Peter said, brown eyes widening. “Why would I talk to him about you?”

“You tell me,” Johnny deflected. Peter laughed.

“Oh, he _totally_ thinks you’re hot.”

Johnny paused. “Okay, I get it. ‘Hot’. I take back my comments about your sense of humor. You’re a comedic genius. Haha.”

Peter grinned.

“So, what were you saying about sex?”

How come all of a sudden talking about sex with Peter safer ground than talking about Spider-Man?

“Not on the rooftop,” Johnny replied.

“You drive a hard bargain. But, my feet are starting to prune up.”

“Now _that’s_ hot.”

Peter shoved him playfully and Johnny’s stomach swooped at the familiarity. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was that felt odd about this new rapport between them (about the fact that Peter moved and talked and touched him with such ease ever since he had reached the rooftop), so he chalked it up to alcohol and giddiness. Maybe Peter was just like this with everyone, anyway, his brain suggested. 

But he didn’t want Peter to be like this with everyone. He wanted Peter to be like this with him.

Oh, hell. Johnny was not going to get territorial or jealous over Peter Parker after one make-out session in a rooftop pool. Because that would be ridiculous.

To distract himself from such idiotic notions, he pulled up his underpants and leapt onto Peter’s ridiculously toned back in a half-assed attempt to dunk him on his way out of the pool.

“Come on, Torch, that was pathetic,” Peter said. The fact that he hadn’t even seemed surprised at the attack was as annoying as it was weirdly hot. He was solid as a rock, unyielding, and as he continued his trek towards the pool ladder with Johnny still on his back, Johnny could feel the muscles of his back moving against his chest.

“Why are you so toned, Parker?” Johnny asked, leaning his chin on Peter’s shoulder.

“That’s for me to know…” He put his hands on the step ladder. “You ready? One, two—“

Before Johnny knew what was happening, Peter heaved the both of them out of the water with terrifying ease. Johnny yelped in surprise and tightened his arms around Peter’s neck, and his legs remained wrapped around Peter’s middle even after they were on solid ground.

“What the hell!” he squeaked.

“I need my windpipes for breathing, that sort of stuff,” Peter reminded him hoarsely.

Johnny released him, missing his absence as soon as his feet hit the floor and there was space between them.

Peter rushed over to his clothes and began wrestling them on, to Johnny’s great dismay. But it wasn’t as if though Johnny wanted him to freeze to death just so he could keep ogling him. That wouldn’t really help the situation, in the long run.

Wait.

Johnny joined Peter in hurrying to get dressed, but for another reason entirely. The sooner they got out of here, the better. Of course he wasn’t worried that Peter would change his mind or anything like that.

“Can you climb on my back again?” Peter’s teeth chattered as he spoke. He was so going to get ill after this. He looked kind of funny, hopping across the deck as he pulled on his socks. “You’re like a koala bear space heater.”

“You really know how to charm a guy.”

“Please?” He pouted and continued his awkward dance, even though he was now fully dressed. “I’m cold.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

Of course, Johnny was already heating the air around them, but that wasn’t nearly as fun.

“Coming through— thank you, excuse me, fun party!” Peter sang as he barrelled through the crowd downstairs with Johnny on his back.

Now _this_ was definitely something that would end up on social media, but Johnny couldn’t stop laughing for long enough to care.

They were still laughing when they reached the elevator, and then Peter kissed Johnny again and Johnny kissed back. It still felt good. It felt great.

They didn’t kiss on the sidewalk while they waited for a cab, but they stood close together, their arms almost touching. Peter’s hands were deep in his coat pockets and he no longer looked frozen. His cheeks were a rosey pink and his eyes were bright. Neither of them spoke, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

It was the drinks, Johnny said to himself. We’re not friendly. We’re not even friends.

He quickly glanced sideways at Peter, catching an odd expression on Peter’s face. Peter was looking at him funny.

“What?” Johnny asked.

“Nothing.”

“Do I have something on my face?”

“Torch… It’s nothing,” he assured him with a smile.

Peter Parker was handsome. Johnny truly felt like he’d not known this until tonight, but that simply wasn’t true. Still smiling, Peter looked away, out across the street and over the snow speckled cars. Johnny studied him for just a moment longer.

He had known Parker since he was sixteen, but also, he hadn’t. They’d never spent any time together, not as pals, and Johnny had seen his photographs in the Bugle more often than he’d seen the man himself. But something about him felt so… familiar.

Peter rolled his eyes and looked back to him.

“What?” he asked.

Johnny shrugged.

“Nothing.”

Peter huffed out a small laugh, and for a fraction of a second, Johnny saw a flash of someone else.

How had Peter greeted him?

“ _Gooood evening, flamebrain!”_

Johnny bumped his elbow against Peter’s arm. With a soft smile, Peter bumped him back.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! drop a comment if u feel so inclined! have a nice day!


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